172
One would think the creators of the universe had decided to watch events unfold in slow motion, but to the disadvantage of the creatures, it meant more pain.
Avynna staggered backward, the glow in her eyes flickering out like a candle in wind. Blood pooled from beneath her ribs as she collapsed to her knees.
Baron cried out, but he was too far. Bavanda caught her mother in her arms just as her legs gave out.
Selene stood, eyes wide in horror—almost as if she hadn’t meant to do it. As if she realized too late the line she’d crossed.
Loco stepped forward with fury in his voice. “What have you done?”
Bavanda didn’t give her time to answer. “How dare you?"
A wave of silver-blue energy exploded from Bavanda’s chest. Her scream echoed like the howl of a thousand wolves, grief merging with divine fury.
Selene didn’t even have time to run.
Light engulfed her. Her scream was silenced as her body disintegrated into dust—not flames, nor smoke—but a soft wind that blew across the courtroom, and was gone.
The pack stood frozen in the aftermath.
Bavanda collapsed to her knees sobbing, she cradled her mother’s body. “No… no, no, no—please don’t leave me.”
She placed a glowing hand over Avynna’s wound, just like she did with Loco. The skin mended, the bleeding stopped, but her eyes never opened.
“She’s breathing,” Loco said hoarsely, crouching beside her. “But barely.”
Baron stumbled forward, his face hollow with agony. He dropped to his knees beside them, taking Avynna’s limp hand. “Avy…” he whispered. “Stay with me.”
She didn’t answer.
Rayna and Gina came running. Steve followed, covered in cuts and ash. The warriors formed a solemn circle, silently watching as their Luna—their symbol of strength—was rushed out of the courtroom.
The battle had been won, but the cost had just been realized.
The infirmary smelled of crushed herbs and grief.
Avynna lay on a bed of white linen, her body unmoving, her face too still. The healers moved quickly around her, whispering prayers and applying ancient salves, but none could wake her.
“She’s in a coma,” one healer murmured. “The magic that struck her was laced with a dark curse. Her spirit is caught between worlds.”
Bavanda sat at her side, refusing to move. Her hands never left her mother’s. Her shoulders never stopped trembling.
“She was trying to help,” she whispered. “Even after everything, she was trying to save her.”
Baron stood at the foot of the bed, his wolf barely restrained beneath his skin. “I should’ve stopped it,” he said. “I should’ve…”
“You couldn’t have known,” Gina said gently.
“She was right there,” he said. “My mate… our Luna… and I let her fall.”
Rayna placed a hand on his shoulder. “She’s not gone yet. And she’s too damn stubborn to die like this.”
Loco stepped into the room, hesitant at first. Bavanda looked up at him, her eyes bloodshot, her voice a whisper. “I’m scared.”
He crouched beside her, his hand brushing against hers. “I know. But you’re not alone. We’ll get her back.”
She leaned into him, just a little. She wiped off the strands of tears that had dried up on her face. Through the corner of her eye, she watched her father walk out of the room with the most dejected posture in the entire universe.
Her heart ached.
Turning to Loco, she mumbled. “Excuse me. I have to speak to him."
Loco nodded quietly, squeezing her shoulders in a bid to offer comfort. He watched her leave, until she was out the door and her figure disappeared. He heaved, his heart heavy with everything that had happened in the past few weeks.
The corridor outside the infirmary was quiet.
Bavanda stepped out, her legs heavy with exhaustion, her breath caught between sobs and silence. She needed a moment to breathe, to think, to feel. She didn't get far before she saw him.
Baron stood there, arms crossed, head bowed, leaning against the stone wall like the weight of the world had crushed him into it.
Their eyes met. For a heartbeat, nothing moved. Then he stepped forward.
“Bavanda,” he said, voice raw. “You came back.”
Bavanda nodded, her throat tight. “I never meant to leave in the first place.”
He studied her face—the glow in her skin from the Moon’s blessing, the sadness hiding in her eyes, the strength she hadn’t yet learned to carry without pain.
“I thought I'd lost you,” he murmured. “And when I saw her—Selene—I let myself believe it was you. Even though everything inside me said it wasn’t.”
“I know,” she whispered.
Baron’s fists clenched at his sides. “Where were you?” His voice cracked. “Why didn’t you come home?”
Bavanda took a deep breath and stepped closer. “I was… lost. I just couldn't stay. She kept taking lives, and everyone thought it was me. It was suffocating, like if I stayed any further, I'd actually turn into what you all were accusing me of. I had to go find answers. I almost lost my life. I almost got Loco killed too. The Moon Goddess reached for me, pulled me into a space between worlds to cleanse what was inside me.”
Baron listened, silent, unmoving. His jaw trembled. “When I…when I found out she wasn't you, I spent nights wondering where you are, and pleading for the sky to keep you safe. I thought I had failed you.”
“You didn’t fail me, Dad,” she whispered. “None of this was your fault.”
He stepped forward suddenly, his voice rough. “Then why didn’t you let me carry some of it? Why do you always think you have to be the shield and the sword?”
Her breath caught.
He softened, then — and cupped her face with trembling hands.
“You’re my daughter, Bavanda. My first child. My miracle. I was proud of you when you took your first breath. And I’m proud of you now—battle-worn, broken, still standing. But I need you to let me protect you too.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry… for making you think you lost me again. I didn’t mean to leave. I just didn’t know how to come back.”
“I know that feeling,” he murmured, pulling her into his chest.
She collapsed into his arms.
For the first time in what felt like years, Bavanda wept like a child. And Baron—Alpha, warrior, legend—wept too. Father and daughter, mourning everything they’d lost… and grateful for what remained.
“I missed you so much,” she choked.
“I missed you more,” he whispered into her hair.
They stayed like that—the world spinning on without them—clinging to each other in the ruins of something once broken, now slowly beginning to heal.
And in the stillness, the Moon watched.
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